Page 24 of Molly
Nicole shook her head. “Oh, doc.”
Ben looked confused. “What? What did I do?”
Betsy clucked her tongue. “You donotcompare a woman to an egg with a name even remotely sounding like Humpty Dumpty. It’s just not flattering.”
Red climbed up his neck. “I didn’t—that’s not what I—”
Amanda pasted on a mournful face. “And your bedside manners were so smooth up until that point.”
“And here we have the male of the species, confused and confounded in the midst of a herd of women,” Nicole said in a horrible English accent, mimicking the narrator of a nature documentary.
“A herd? Really?” Betsy pushed her hair off her shoulder.
Nicole shrugged. “A gaggle?”
“That’s worse.”
“It’s better than a murder like a group of crows,” I replied. “But other options could be a fluffle like bunnies or clowder like cats. A parliament like owls or a shiver like sharks. Oh, how about a zeal like zebras? Or cete like badgers?”
“Or a pride because you are all fierce,” Ben added, “like lionesses.”
“I am woman, hear me roar,” Jocelyn called, still from the other room.
Amanda beamed. “Doctor Ben, I do believe you have redeemed yourself.”
“Great. Now how about we close that wound of yours?” He waited for Amanda to agree then shook the vial in his hand. “This is a tissue adhesive glue. It’ll lower the risk of any type of infection in your wound and you won’t have to go to the hospital to get stitches put in or removed.”
With precision, he applied the medical glue and finished working on Amanda’s leg. He gave her some over-the-counter pain medication and simple instructions, then stood. “Well, it was nice meeting you ladies, although I’m sorry for the circumstances.”
My friends all made similar comments, and I was thankful they’d behaved themselves. I walked Ben out of the kitchen, Chloe making Princess Cupcake Sparkle gallop toward us so that we all met in front of the door.
“Thank you for helping Amanda.”
“My pleasure.” He placed his hand on top of Chloe’s head. “We’ll see you tomorrow then.”
I opened the door. “Bye, Chloe.”
She made her unicorn wave her hoof at me and I waved back. My gaze lifted and I caught Ben looking at me. No, not looking. More like studying. His eyes focused, then un-focused, then focused again. Like he was seeing me, then not, then seeing me again. He gave his head a small shake before he lifted his own hand in a wave and turned to head for his car.
I shut the door behind him, my thoughts a swirl of confusion. Like different thoughts had gotten into different vehicles and traveled different paths but ended up at the same intersection. Except the lights at the intersection were going crazy. On. Off. Flashing. My car-thoughts started and stopped. There were thought fender-benders and even a thought head-on collision. Chaos and pandemonium ensued in my brain.
What had that strange look he’d given me at the door meant? Why did my pulse pick up a little speed at the idea of going back to work again tomorrow? I could tell myself that it was because of Chloe. That little girl was like a cat burglar and had already stolen my heart. How could she not? But I would be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that my stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing Ben, not Chloe. That it was thoughts of Ben, the fatigue he wore like a cloak and the responsibility he shouldered like a weight, that had pierced my core and stirred within me a need and drive to help him in any way that I could.
And the reality that I don’t lie, even to myself, has already been established.
I turned from the door and took a single step toward the living room before I stopped in my tracks. Jocelyn, Betsy, Nicole, and Amanda (who was using the wall for support) all stood about three feet in front of me, grins wide enough to embarrass even the Cheshire cat.
“So that’s Ben.” Jocelyn stated the obvious.
“Yes, that’s Ben.” I moved around them and returned to the serger. If they got too noisy, I’d drown them out with the machine.
The girls followed me into the living room and took up the same positions they’d occupied before the broken blender incident.
“Why didn’t you tell us how good-looking he is?” Amanda asked. “He’s even cuter than my favorite television drama doctor.”
I glanced up from pressing the seams together with my fingers. “Since when do we sit around and talk about the physical appeal of our employers?”
Nicole laughed as she pointed her scissors at Amanda and Betsy. “What do you think those two do while we three sew?”
